


The Witcher: The Musical

by badboybellamy



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealous Jaskier, Kidnapping, M/M, Musicals, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboybellamy/pseuds/badboybellamy
Summary: It’s been months since Jaskier had walked away from Geralt on the mountain. It’s been months since Jaskier’s heart broke since he’s been left alone. He was doing well for himself, well until he managed to get himself kidnapped by an evil albeit sexy sorceress who’s using him for some revenge plot to get back at Geralt.Basically Jaskier gets kidnapped Geralt has to come to his rescue only when they leave they’ve been cursed to sing what’s on their mind. Everything that’s on their mind. This causes angst and jealousy and best of all healing.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone so if there’s mistakes please let me know! This just sets the scene and what not so don’t judge it too harshly! Encouraging comments are welcome as they keep my writing :)

So, perhaps, there was a small chance that Jaskier wasn’t doing exactly that well off on his own. Maybe. Who could really say? The fact that he was chained to a wall in a dungeon by a scary looking enchantress that called herself Villanelle didn’t do much to help his cause.

Jaskier had met such woman in a tavern months after losing contact with Geralt, months after the mountain argument. He had debuted his newest song Her Sweet Kiss. Jaskier had agonized over wether he should play it or not but when he finished his usual songs about Geralt and their adventures (because hey he needed to make a living too) he felt compelled to sing it as if it were against his will. But surely that was impossible.

She had approached him with wine after his set and attempted to flirt her way into his pants, or that’s the way it seemed to him anyway. Jaskier accepted the drink but declined her advances. When she asked why he simply said his heart belonged to another. She seemed to accept that and smiled sadly before walking away. That had seemed to be the end of it. However, on his drunken walk to the inn not two buildings down he was knocked upside the head and fell unconscious.

When he woke he found himself gagged and bound in a damp and freezing cold dungeon. He knew his head was in bad shape from the dried blood on the walk behind his head and the sharp pain he felt upon moving his head. He blearily looked up and with wide eyes he focused on the woman from the tavern. WHO ARE YOU? He wanted to scream at the woman that lingered over him but all that came out was muffled sounds due to the gag covering his mouth.

“Now, now, Jaskier you shouldn’t struggle. The last thing we want is you hurting yourself.” The woman said with a sickly sweet voice. Her eyes were a vivid green, her hair down to her knees in a cascade of red waves. Her skin tan and almost glowing. Definitely not your everyday human woman. How had Jaskier missed that earlier? She moved forward, hand coming to the gag around his mouth. “I’ll take this off if you promise to behave.” She paused looking at him pointedly. “Will you behave?”

Jaskier nodded dizzily and the gag was out of his mouth. He instantly screamed at the top of his lungs. His voice was rough, his mouth dry but by gods did he try.

The enchantress slapped his cheek instantly silencing his scream. His cheek burned as if she’d put fire against his skin. Jaskier shook his head (ouch that bloody hurt)and blinked up, trying to focus on her frame. “What do you want?” He asked, voice hoarse and bitter.

“You.” The sweetness had left her voice and was replaced with annoyance. “I want to make you suffer, bard. I want to make you suffer so he suffers.” She said, her hands coming up to open a portal? No, not a portal but a one way mirror that showed the Witcher. His Witcher. Geralt had his sword raised in front of him wandering through a dark cemetery. The only light coming from the half moon above him. Out of nowhere a ghoul attacked him, screeching as it descending upon Geralt knocking him to the ground. Jaskier’s eyes widened and his mouth let out a strangled noise as if he could warn Geralt about the creature.

As fast as it was opened the mirror closed and Geralt was gone. “NO!” Jaskier screamed, struggling against his chains trying to make his way to wherever Geralt was. The sorceress kicked his face, sending him flying back against the hard surface of the wall behind him. His nose made a sickening crack sound before gushing blood. What a BITCH, he thought as his mouth filled up with blood. Jaskier may be a lot of things but he wasn’t a coward, not when it came to his Witcher. He raised his head, eyes dark, and spat at the bitch. Blood covered the front of her beautiful white dress.

“You fucker!” The witch kicked his stomach, over and over and over again until he was a crumpled pile on the floor. She let out a wicked laugh. “You fool! This is exactly what I wanted all along. Once your Witcher sees how hurt you are he’ll come running to your aid. It’s the perfect plan. He’ll come for you and I’ll murder you both.” The smile on her face was a serene one as if this was the best thing that could ever happen to her.

“Geralt....he won’t come for me..” Jaskier said, his voice defeated as he lay on the cold ground unmoving.

“Why? Because of your little lovers quarrel?” She asked mockingly. Jaskier’s head shot up and he looked at her with his eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out how she knew. “Surprised?” She asked, smirking. “Jaskier, while you were unconscious I took a peek inside your head. I know everything, what you want, what you fear...I know who you love.” Her voice dropped an octave sending shivers down his spine. “Trust me, he’s going to come for you...especially after this.” She turned around the room and opened the cell door. “Oh boys!” She called, moments later two men came running down the stairs. The seemed like ordinary men, farmers perhaps. Their eyes glazed over and there movements jerky as if in a daze. “Do grab his things and bring them here.” One of the men quickly made his way over to Jaskier’s bag and lute and handed them over to her. “You!” She said pointing to the other one. “Take his clothes off.”

The larger man made his way over to Jaskier in his stupor and began manhandling him as Jaskier fought against his hold. The man took a knife and ripped his shirt to easily pull it off against his chains. He made haste to remove Jaskier’s pants the same time as Jaskier pleaded for him to stop and just let him go.

“Now-“ Villanelle began, pulling something from his bag-“go fetch me the bath.” The two men turned from the cell and made their way back up the stairs to fetch the bath. “You see, Jaskier, I know you and your Witcher met up with Yennifer. Yen and I go way back once upon a time and I’m the one who taught her how to make mirror communications. I also know for a fact Geralt was quite fond of you. Must be why he had her make this-“ she said holding up a plain silver locket without design on the face of it. “Surely he wouldn’t have a mirror portal made if he didn’t intend on keeping you safe.”

Jaskier’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. Yes, Geralt had given him the locket but the Witcher has said he found it while on a hunt and thought Jaskier would like it since it was pretty. That sneaky bastard, always keeping things from him. The last thing he wanted was Geralt to come for him and get entangled in this mess. The sorceress clearly had a vengeance against the Witcher for whatever reason. Despite everything, Jaskier wanted nothing more than to keep the Witcher safe. Keep him far away from this crazy witch.

The men came and moved the bath in front of Jaskier. It was a rather large tub and the sight of it made his blood run cold. The men came forward and unchained him from the wall, dropped him on his knees in front of the bath. “Say his name, Jaskier. That’s all you have to do and this will all be over.” The witch coaxed, her voice soft and sweet again. “Call to your Witcher Jaskier and he will come.” Jaskier shook his head and bit down on his lip, drawing blood. “You won’t do it? Maybe this will coax you.” She said taking a whip and cracking it over the tender flesh of his stomach. He screamed as the whip came back over his shoulders.

The lashings continues ten more times until he gave up, the pain in his body made him really really want Geralt to come. It was selfish and he knew as much but by gods he was  scared.  Besides, there was no way to know for sure that Geralt would come at all. For all Jaskier knew, Geralt would let him die so he could finally be free of the bard forever. “Geralt....Geralt come for me. Please come for me.” He called, voice desperate and dripping with fear.

**Geralt** **pov**

Geralt had long since killed the ghoul and went ahead and made camp in the woods for the night. He was in no rush to go back to the small town of people who were weary of him. He was sat on his bedroll when he sensed a soft hum of magic as his pack next to Roach light up a soft blue color. That’s when he heard it, the voice he hadn’t heard in months.

“Geralt...Geralt come for me. Please come for me!” It was Jaskier, he was sure of it. But his voice sounded off...sounded like it was weak and filled with fear. He shot up and ran to his pack, pulling out the mirror Yennifer had turned into a communication mirror. It glowed blue around the edges and the mirror showed Jaskier tied up in chains, beaten and bloody. In front of the bard was a tub. The two men at his side, grabbed him roughly and shoved his head beneath the surface.

He watched in horror as the bard struggled against his chains and captors, fighting for his life to be let up for air. “Jaskier!” He called out, knowing it was useless that he couldn’t do anything from where he was.

Finally, the bard was pulled out the water. He spat it out from his mouth, choked and spluttered. “Let go of him!” Geralt growled.

Jaskier raised his head, more blood dripped from his nose mixing with the ice cold water from the pool. He shivered, teeth chattering. “Geralt?” He asked weakly. “Is that yo-“

Jaskier was grabbed again and shoved under the water again. He struggled again, even as they held him under longer than before.

“Let up!” Geralt yelled. “Let him fucking go.”

“Fine.” The enchantress said. “Witcher you must atone for your sins or your bard will pay the price.”

“Sins? What the fuck are you talking about you crazy bitch?” Geralt let himself relax slightly as Jaskier was pulled from the tub choking on water but alive.

“You stole my lover, Witcher. Now it’s my turn to steal yours. You have 24 hours to make your way to Vasatier. Follow the magic deep in the frozen mountains and you will find your bard. Hurry, Witcher, this young man may not have long to live in my hands...just how my lover Rosiah died by yours.”

Recognition flashed in the Witcher’s eyes. Rosiah....the name sounded familiar. Rosiah.... Rosiah....Rosiah! The half harpy he had killed some 40 odd years ago?

“Ah, so you do remember her after all?” The enchantress asked, a wicked smirk on her face.

“Geralt what is...what’s she talking about?” Jaskier asked. The witch raised her hand and motion for the men to begin torturing him again. Kicking him over and over until he was face first on the ground getting his ribs kicked in. The bard screamed in pain, curling in on himself to try and protect his ribs.

“Hurry Witcher! We wouldn’t want to puncture anything important.”

“Make them stop!” Geralt growled. “Make them stop and you can have me!”

“Boys.” She said and with a snap of her fingers the men stopped kicking. “It’s a deal. Why don’t you come round and we’ll shake on it?” She asked mockingly. “Tata for now, Witcher.”

The mirror communication was closed off and just like that Jaskier and that evil bitch were gone. The blue color fizzed out and the magic in the air disappeared. Geralt felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time: fear. Real, genuine, blood curling fear. 


	2. You’re all that I have left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt comes to the rescue but not without a love ballad because this has become a musical after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used is from Joey‘s band The Amazing Devil from the album The Horror and the Wild it is entitled The Rockrose and The Thistle so if you haven’t already give it a listen and enjoy!

Geralt had found a mage in the next town over and paid a very heavy price to have him portaled to Vasatier. All he had with him was Roach, his armor, weapons, potions, and a thick cloak. It was all he had time to gather according to his internal clock he had 12 hours left to get to Jaskier. His entire being was in panic mode. His mind on overdrive. All he could focus on was the image of Jaskier bleeding with slashes all over him, his body shivering from the ice cold water he had been held under in. 

Roach, the beautiful horse she was, sensed his unease and trotted as fast as she could up the rough terrain of the mountain. Somehow, it was as if she knew this was about the bard. She knew her owner well and knew he was the Witcher’s soft spot. His weakness. 

After a three hour trek in the snow, Roach, came to a halt. In front of him was a decrepit looking castle. By the way it was falling apart, it appeared to be centuries old. Geralt got off his horse, and tied her reigns to a tree. “I’ll be back for you, girl.” He promised, patting her on the head softly. 

He made the trek up the drive. He pushed the big metal gate to open it and it completely fell apart before him. He walked atop of it, continuing up the eery path toward the castle. The steps of the castle were falling apart, the door off it’s hinges, the inside was no better. Candles lit a path down a corridor that wound and bend in a semi circle. He went to turn a corner and saw an opened doorway. Beside the doorway in chairs on either side sat the men who had held down and tortured Jaskier. Geralt let out a growl and reached toward the one on the left but stopped before his hand came to the mans throat. The mans brown eyes were glazed over as if in a daze. His body did not flinch nor react to Geralt’s sudden movements. “Fuck.” He muttered, turning to make his way back toward the path of the candles and down the stairs into what presumably was the dungeon. 

At the bottom of the stairs towards the back wall on the left side of the room sat Jaskier naked save his underpants. His skin shockingly pale, many wounds blemished his body. There were bruises on the side of his face, beneath his eyes, and over his clearly broken nose where dried blood crusted over. His sides was bruised an ugly purple and yellow color. His arms and ankles were rubbed raw from shackles that had since been removed. If Geralt couldn’t hear Jaskier’s heart beat himself he would’ve assumed him dead. He need no shackles, his weak body was no threat. Not to anyone. 

Geralt rushed across the room to his side. “Jaskier. Jaskier, wake up.” He tried, taking his small face in his large hands. “Jaskier I’m here. Your safe. I’m here.” He assured, patting the bard’s cheeks gently to try and rouse him. 

His blue eyes fluttered open and he looked at Geralt through heavy eyelids and thick lashes. “Geralt.” He said with a breathy sigh of relief, his voice was sweet and weak and so full of love that Geralt couldn’t help but feel choked up at the sound. 

“Yes. It’s me, I’m here.” Geralt smiled at him and Jaskier with all the physical pain it caused him from moving his face smiled back. 

“Good. That’s good.” He whispered, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his head falling back against the wall, his body sagging with unconsciousness. 

No, Jaskier, this is not good,  Geralt thought panic being to fill his being once again. 

“Oh, what a lovely reunion. Really, Witcher, it’s enough to bring one to tears.” The enchantress spoke, stepping out of the darkness and into candle light. 

“Villanelle.” Geralt growled, standing up and blocking Jaskier’s body from her sight. “You stupid bitch. I thought you would’ve learned something from the death of your girlfriend but here you are yet again playing with boys who don’t belong to you.” 

“How dare you speak of her!” The enchantress yelled, blowing his body against the wall with a surge of red magic. 

“You’re gonna need more than that to win this fight.” Geralt said, getting up from the ground. His sword raised, ready this time. 

“Don’t worry, Witcher, I’m just getting started.” She said sending another wave of magic his way, once again knocking him off his feet his head hit the wall with a thud. Yes, it hurt like hell, but he quickly got to his feet and charged the witch. This wasn’t a fight he was willing to lose. 

Villanelle drew her own sword, and enchanted one that was light to hold and easy to wield. It hummed with magic meant to make its blows deadly and very accurate. She herself had never been one to wield a blade but an enchanted sword...now that was something she could work with. She raised the blade to clash against Geralt’s keeping his blow from landing. 

He pulled back, aiming a blow at her side. Her sword moved quickly in her hands and blocked his blade. He aimed for her throat, his blade was blocked. Her sword came up and swiped his left side, he could feel it pierce his armor and felt the burn of the blade tearing through his skin. It wasn’t deep. He continued to fight. 

“Boys!” She called, and the men came running down the stairs. One with a sword the other with a bow an arrow. An arrow was shot off at Geralt and stuck him in the shoulder straight through his armor like the sword before. Fuck. 

The other man stepped forward, sword raised to fight the Witcher as Villanelle backed out of harms way. She began a spell in a language he did not recognize. Despite that he could hear the meaning, somehow, as if her words were being translated in his head in real time. 

“Silence now thy lying tongue. Only truth may croon from thee lips. I curse thee only know of thys partners affection, distress, and repugnance. Let thy spit at thee with damnation and regret. May thee never be-“ 

Before she could finish her curse, Geralt had knocked the two men unconscious and his sword cut through the air back towards the witch, landing a nasty blow on her collarbone. She screamed, indignantly, and raised her own blade to his throat, slicing a thin scar that bled down his shirt. “How dare you interrupt me!” She seethed, their blades coming to blow again and again. 

“You’re just like your harpy girlfriend-“ he began with a smirk on his face-“can’t land a killing blow to save your life.” 

She growled, hate filling her body with fire causing her to shake with anger. She blasted him again with a great deal of magic. He slammed into the bottom of the stairs his whole body aching and hurting in what felt like very important places. Before he could get up Villanelle had made her way over to him, her sword raised ready to come down on him with a fatal blow. 

To Geralt’s horror the blow never came, at least not for him. Jaskier sat in front of him on his knees, his body blocking Geralt’s with his own. Blood trickled from his mouth, his beautiful blue eyes wide with fear as tears fell down his cheeks. The sword poking through the side of his abdomen. “Ah...” he let out a very strange breathy sound like he wanted to scream but couldn’t manage to make any other noise come out. His eyes did not leave the Witcher’s as he slumped over when the witch pulled her sword from his body. 

Geralt saw red. He stood quickly and he raised his sword. He sliced from left to right, decapitating the witch where she stood. He watched as her body crumbled to the floor. Her head falling from her neck and rolling across the dungeon. Her eyes still open her mouth left agape. Blood splattered the Witcher’s face.

Immediately he collapsed to his knees pulling the bard into his lap. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He panicked because yes Jaskier was definitely going to die if he didn’t do something soon. With shaky hands he pulled cloth from his cloak and pressed it to the wound in his side.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He muttered pulling the bard close to his chest as he carried him bridal style. Geralt blindly ran up the stairs and dashed through the house like a madman. He kept running out the castle and towards the end of the clearing where he’d left Roach. He had to contact Yennifer and have her portal them to safety to save Jaskier’s life. This was the only way. Jaskier wouldn’t last the trip down the mountain and into town. He knew that much. 

Geralt ripped his cloak from his shoulders and laid it on the snow beside Roach. He set Jaskier down on top and immediately began riffling through his pack to find the mirror he had to get through to Yennifer he had to save-

A hand reached out towards him, gently squeezing his arm. “Geralt.” Jaskier whispered weakly. The Witcher’s head whipped around to look at him. “Geralt I’m so sorry.” He said through tears.

“No Jaskier I’m the one who’s sorry I never should’ve....I never should’ve...and then none of this would’ve happened. None of it.” The words he struggled to find were left unsaid but the tears that flowed from the bard’s eyes and the vigorous nod he gave let Geralt know Jaskier understood. Fuck, Jaskier always understood no matter how much he fucked up or how cruel he was the bard always understood and forgave him. “You’re gonna be fine, Jaskier!” Geralt felt his throat start to tighten and his mouth go dry. “I’m going to fix this I swear it to you.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Jaskier’s very sickly pale skin seemed to blend in with the snow as he choked, spitting blood out his mouth. He bled red onto the bed of white beneath him. It was a shocking contrast, one that made Geralt legs feel weak like he could pass out himself. 

And then something strange happened....Jaskier began to sing.

“When you call to me asleep up the ragged cliffs I scramble. A single thread hangs limply down.” Geralt stared down at him in shock, pressing pressure on the wound on his abdomen. “And I breathe not now, not now, and I find you all unwoven trying desperately to sew. I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone.” 

Jaskier’s shaky and bloody hand came up to give a weak feather light caress to Geralt’s cheek. “When your seams have come unknitted and you cry out to the sky. I've run out of my words, my song. Just let me die, me die.” Geralt lifted the cloth from Jaskier’s side and watched as blood poured out. This was not something he could stitch up and fix. It was worse than he imaged it would be. This couldn’t happen not like this not when-

Then in an even stranger turn of events Geralt began to sing back. Geralt, to his own knowledge, never sings. 

“The rockrose and the thistle will whistle as you moan. I could try to calm you down but I know you won't.” They sang together, Jaskier’s hand falling from his cheek leaving a smattering of warm blood in its wake. 

“All the pins inside your fretted head. And your muttered whens and hows. All your mother's weaves and your father's threads. Let me rob them of you now. ‘Cause I'll darn you back together. When you think that you're bereft and you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop ‘cause it's all that I have left.” Geralt’s voice was unusually soft and calming as it harmonized with Jaskier’s weak and rough and choked up one. 

“I wake and hear you calling and up those cliffs I climb. And I find you with a thimble weeping. May I, I ask, may I? And you gently gift it to me ‘cause you've no clue how to sew.” Geralt sang alone this time, brushing Jaskier’s damp hair back off his face, his touch gentle.”And I know the kindest thing, I pray to god it's the kindest thing. I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone.” He feels his throat grow tighter yet again. Reality set in, if Jaskier died here Geralt felt like laying down beside him and dying too. After months apart he realized he did not wish to be alone but more important he wished to not be without the bard. 

He shook his head, snapping out of whatever weird singing daze he was in and turned back towards the mirror. “Yennifer!” He yelled gruffly in a panic. “Yennifer!” He called again. “I need you to portal us out of here. Now!”

Moments later, a portal opened up in front of them. He grabbed untied Roach’s reigns and gathered Jaskier in his arms once again. He leaned against Roach as they entered the portal together. 

It wasn’t until Yennifer had Jaskier on a table working to fix him that Geralt’s shock left his bones. Had they really stopped in the middle of trying to get help to sing a ballad of love and death and loneliness? Surely, he had been confused. There’s no way...Witcher’s don’t sing. But he was sure he had...so what the fuck was that? 


	3. I’m above you and I love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier wakes up in a beautiful castle in a beautiful bed with his beautiful Witcher. Nothing could ruin this beautiful moment well except for maybe a song....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Song featured is Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil I changed a few lyrics to make them make more sense and probably will do that with other songs featured. 
> 
> I wrote this on my phone so RIP if there’s mistakes. Also, I’m an essential worker so I’m not sure how often I will post but I will try to stay consistent and get as many chapters out as I can before my shifts. Anyway, if you like it leave a comment and tell me what you think I thrive on those :)

When Jaskier awoke it’s wasn’t quick and startled with fear in his eyes. No, it was two days later and slow and muddled from pain relieving potions. His body still felt sore but besides that he felt light and and dizzy. His eyes opened slowly under heavy lids. He tried to sit up but pain radiated from his lower abdomen with the movement. Laying down was fine, he felt too tired to try again anyway.

He looked around, his head felt like it was swimming with the movement. He was in a beautifully decorated bedroom and laid on silky purple sheets. In the corner of the room was a chair where Geralt sat, his arms crossed and head tilted with sleep. Jaskier couldn’t help but stare. The fact that he was high on pain relieving potion didn’t help. He felt like he was in a dream. Geralt was here, in front of him, as if nothing had changed. As if they had never separated. But they had and he was hurt- unbelievably hurt. Nothing made sense anymore. Geralt had literally said if he could have one blessing it would be for Jaskier to be off his hands. Presumably he meant forever. Yet, when the witch called he came. Quickly at that. 

Not only that but Geralt had known who the witch was. Jaskier was unconscious for a lot of their fight but he heard Geralt call the witch by name. Everything had been personal for the witch, he could tell that much, especially after hearing that Geralt had slain her girlfriend. 

“I can feel your eyes on me.” Geralt had said, his eyes still closed. Damn his Witcher senses. Yellow eyes met blue. “How are you feeling?” He asked, standing up and cracking his neck. Slowly, he made his way to the bed and sat on the edge. 

“M’fine.” Jaskier said, his eyes following Geralt’s every movement. “Alright, love?” He asked, voice hoarse from sleep. 

Geralt seemed confused, pausing for a moment, staring at Jaskier with his head tilted a bit to the side like a puppy. His eyebrows knitted together. Jaskier knew that face and knew Geralt didn’t understand why the bard cared for his wellbeing. He couldn’t help it and would probably always care for his Witcher. 

“I’m good.” He promised, pressing a hand on Jaskier’s thigh. He patted his leg awkwardly, trying to be comforting. “Glad your awake.” 

“How umm-“ Jaskier cleared his throat-“how long s’was I asleep?” 

Geralt smiled softly, glad Jaskier seemed to be piecing things together. “About two and a half days.” He said slowly, not trying to rile Jaskier up. 

“Oh.” The bard said. “Okay.” He nodded softly. “Thank you.” Jaskier said, smiling up at Geralt with a genuine smile. 

“What for?” Geralt asked instead of responding with his usual hum or grunt. 

Jaskier’s face softened. He knew Geralt would blame himself. He always blamed himself even when it wasn’t his fault. This wasn’t his fault, Jaskier knew and did not blame him. He moved his hand to grab Geralt’s own. “Coming for me. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I did. I wouldn’t leave you behind.” Geralt winced at his words, because he had left Jaskier behind months before on the mountain. Well, had forced him to leave with his harsh words. In the Witcher’s mind, it all meant the same thing. 

“I know.” Jaskier said instead of the harsh accusations he can’t help but think about. He’s still angry and hurt. He loved Geralt more than anyone ever before him. He still loves him- is in love with him. Probably always will be. But The Witcher was blind or stupid or simply did not love him back and ignored his advances. Regardless, Jaskier was exhausted of going in circles with him. He did not wish to cause the Witcher pain not like Geralt had done to him. 

“Jaskier I-“ Geralt started to say but his voice seemed to get caught in his throat. “I just...I’m sorry that you got caught up in all that.” He settled upon lamely. 

“Up in what?” Jaskier asked because he still didn’t quite understand what had happened. Why he was kidnapped in the first place or how Geralt had know the sorceress in the first place. “What um...Geralt what happened?”

Geralt drew in a deep breath and let it out, looking away from Jaskier. “Villanelle and I met half a century ago.” He began. “She wasn’t evil back then though. Before, she was a well respected mage a professor even.” Geralt did his best not to squirm under Jaskier’s gaze. “It was 40 years ago when she met her downfall. Rosiah was a harpy...well she was half harpy half human and she was beautiful.” The Witcher said, shaking his head. “Like everyone Villanelle had a weakness and that weakness was love.” He looked over at Jaskier pointedly, eyes soft and trying to say something he could find the words to say. “Rosiah would seduce and kidnap young villager to torture and kill. Villanelle knew of her girlfriends sins and began helping her hide the bodies. I spared her life because I believed her to be enchanted by Rosiah’s beauty. I was wrong I suppose.” He said looking away feeling guilty. “She held a grudge against me for killing Rosiah and believed you to be my weakness. She wanted to hurt me through you.” Geralt paused, squeezing Jaskier’s hand in his own. “I am sorry, Jaskier.” 

“Listen to me Geralt of Rivia it is not your fault.” Jaskier said with conviction. 

Geralt was silent for a moment, he appreciated Jaskier saying it but he felt so incredibly fucking guilty. It was all his fault and he knew that. But he was tired of agonizing over it and feeling emotions of all calibers all at once. He needed a break, a change of subject. “What were you doing in Vasatier anyway?” He asked, scooting a big closet to Jaskier on the bed. “I thought you were heading towards the coast?” 

Jaskier looked down, avoiding his gaze. “That’s um... it just well it wasn’t gonna be the same alone.” He said and left it at that, forcing a smile when he raised his gaze to meet Geralt’s. 

“Hmmm.” Geralt said, unable to find the right words to express how much he fucked up and how sorry he was and how he really really wished he had shut his fucking mouth and went to the coast with Jaskier when he asked. 

“It’s alright, darling. It’s alright.” Jaskier said, seeing the darkening of Geralt’s eyes and the micro expression of disappoint me and self hate. 

Jaskier sat up, abruptly as if he’d had the strength all along and opened his mouth and...sang. “Awake awake you children bold take hold of all your books and fold the corners, they warned us a storm is coming on.” Jaskier grabbed hold of Geralt’s hand and moved it up to hold it against his own cheek. “What do you mean you've lost your scarlet welly boots, do y'know what they cost? Wear a raincoat or it'll soak you to the bone.” His voice was soft and warm and invited and Geralt felt enchanted. “What's it like, the children ask? It's just like falling snow, I am above you and I love you.” Jaskier moved forward, it was as if his pain was gone, he moved to sit in Geralt’s lap and wrapped his arms around Geralt pulling him into a hug. “Don't you know that I'll be with you all along, as long as you are kind to those who are not strong and cannot find their scarlet welly boots.” He sang into his ear, grabbing the hair at the nape of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt pulled back to look Jaskier in the eyes, brushing hair off his face and sang. “Cause when it's cold I'll wrap my scarf around you. And when it's hard I'll place your head into my hands.” He sang taking Jaskier’s face into his large hands. “And when you scream that it's not fair. It's like I've gone off to the coast. Left you behind just standing there pretending not to see your ghost. If only you could hear my voice but you are screaming far too loud to hear me, swear. Just because I left doesn't mean that I'm not still there.” He moved forward, pressing a kiss against Jaskier’s forehead. “I get to watch you grow up now and make me proud. Make all of those mistakes that make me laugh. Oh darling, lord how you make me laugh. Get drunk for me, sing louder than you've sung for me. Grow young each time that thunder in your lungs begins to rumble at the world. ‘Cause you were always strong when you were young, you'd kick things just to see if they would fall.” 

“They said 'that Witcher he’s wrong' but I'll stick up for you. Even though you haven't got a clue you haven't got a fucking clue. And I'm so proud of you. And when they laugh at us you’ll feel my fingers down your back.” Jaskier sang, his hands rubbing up and down Geralt’s back soothingly. 

“And when you scream ‘I'm not alright.’ And throw my picture at the wall. ‘You were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all! How could you leave me here?’ You’ll scream and louder, I'll scream back to you from that unknown and say it I know you're strong enough, I know you're strong enough. I know you're strong enough to do this on your own...” Geralt sang, his guilt really coming out in how he perceived Jaskier’s feelings towards him. 

“And years from now at night that storm will break. You'll step outside to feel it shake and barefoot walk across the lawn. You'll miss me oh Jesus Christ you'll miss me. Just as much as all those years ago.” Jaskier sang, burrowing his face in Geralt’s neck, his arms slung over Geralt’s shoulders haphazardly

“And you'll look up at the storm you'll say 'I've been so scared. You left me here behind, do you not care? How the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?’ Just when you're about to give up every hope you have you turn around perched by the stairs, someone's gone and left behind a brand new pair of scarlet welly boots.” Geralt finished the song, his hands coming up to rest on Jaskier’s waist careful to not squeeze to tight on his wounds. Both were breathing heavy, sharing a bubble of air between them. 

Jaskier was the first to snap from his daze, really feeling the pain in his abdomen and on his back, his headache coming back with a vengeance. “Ahhh...” he hissed in pain backing off of Geralt’s lap and scooting down until he was laying back against the headboard. “Ahhhh.” He hissed again, hand coming to rest on his abdomen his face contorting in pain. “A Geralt ahhh what the uh...” he panted trying to catch his breath. “What the fuck was that?” 

Geralt felt the warm spots from where Jaskier used to be grow cold. His skin felt as though it’d been burned from his touches. “I do not know.” He said, his brain feeling like it was still trying to load everything that happened like it needed a moment to catch up. 

“Geralt did we just fucking sing?” He asked, starting to panic. 

“Yes.” 

“Against our will?” 

“Yes.” 

“Together?” 

“Hmm.”

“Okay...let’s not panic.” Jaskier said, his heart starting to pound in his chest because yes he was definitely panicking. 

“Jaskier you’re panicking.” Geralt said, his voice calm. His mind was kicked into overdrive trying to figure out how to fix this situation before the bard had an anxiety attack or panicked himself to death.

“Yes Geralt! Yes I’m fucking panicking. Of course I’m fucking panicking! I didn’t want to say or  sing  any of that at all ever in front of anyone but especially you, you fucking brute!” He screamed, voice embarrassingly high pitched. 

“Jaskier it’s fine I-“

“No Geralt it’s not fine!” He sneered, clearly losing his cool his cheeks bright pink with blush from embarrassment and anger. “Just go!” He yelled. Geralt didn’t move, he looked at Jaskier like he was a wild animal he didn’t want to spook with any sudden movements. “Get out! I don’t want to see you! Just get out!” He screamed. “Please!”

Geralt moved quickly, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind him. He pressed his back against the door. His heart was beating slightly faster than normal for a Witcher. 

In all of the commotion Geralt only just now had time to process the fact that Jaskier just confessed that he loved him? He had literally said (well sung) “I love you” out loud in front of Geralt. But because he had to sing his feelings the moment was gone, lost forever. He didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to rip the door open and tell Jaskier there was nothing to be embarrassed about that he loved him too. But the other part, the bigger part of him, didn’t know the right words to say or didn’t know if he wanted to say anything at all. He knew he loved him too but voicing that out loud and possibly changing their entire dynamic which was already rocky considering they hadn’t actually made up was too big a risk. 

Geralt hung his head low and made his way down stairs to drink himself into oblivion. Now that, that was something he didn’t have to think about nor did he have to think while doing it. He really didn’t want to sit and agonize over the lyrics of the songs not what he sang nor what Jaskier sang. It was all too much and he needed to get drunk by himself. 

And he did until the early morning of the next day where Jaskier found him passed out in the large kitchen area of the castle they were staying in (where Yennifer had portaled them). His face was on the table next to the 4 empty bottles of ale he had downed. “Oh darling.” Jaskier exhaled, pulling the blanket off from around his shoulders and placing it around Geralt instead. He pressed a kiss to his forehead drinking in the sight of him before retreating back to his room before Geralt woke up. He crawled into bed, curled up and went back to sleep hoping everything would just go back to normal when he woke up. 


	4. I’ll Be Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used: Two Minutes by The Amazing Devil

Things were beyond awkward between Jaskier and Geralt. They still slept in the same room, of course, it was an unspoken agreement. Being kidnapped and tortured did something to a person and if he were being honest Jaskier didn’t feel safe without Geralt’s ever looming presence around him. They just did other things separately like eating and talking to Yennifer. Jaskier recently decided he liked to take walks in the garden and out by the stream. They helped him clear his head and get alone time (specifically time away from Geralt). He had done everything he possibly could to avoid the other man.

However, the night before they talked. Or rather Geralt talked and decided it was time to talk to Yennifer about their little problem. The singing one. So, they (Geralt) had decided they would all sit to breakfast and discuss. Which is where Jaskier was now sitting alone at a very large table watching Yennifer and Geralt conspire in the doorway. Jaskier couldn’t help but feel the emotion he felt when writing Her Sweet Kiss. He was tired of wanting for years only for her to waltz in and take what was rightfully his. Sure, Geralt didn’t actually belong to anyone but he did belong  with  Jaskier. A blind man could see it. Hell, demented witches could see it. 

Yennifer laughed and Jaskier’s blood boiled as her eyes fell onto him as he sipped his coffee. He kept his face as neutral as possible, hiding behind his rather large mug. The real punch to his gut was when he saw Geralt give her a smile. His knuckles white as he gripped his drink even tighter. He felt his heart rate quicken with anger. He didn’t want to be angry or jealous or hurt, truly. But Geralt was a reserved man with smiles as rare as higher vampires. No matter how hard Jaskier tried (and try he did) Geralt hardly ever looked at him so happily. 

Jaskier couldn’t help but he mad that Geralt was happy at all. He still ached from wounds of body and mind and Geralt could smile at the very woman who caused their separation in the first place? Jaskier pushed his chair back rather loudly and abruptly got up. He stormed across the room to push past Geralt and Yennifer, his shoulder hitting the witch as he passed. 

He was a fool to think Geralt would care to help him out of anything more than obligation. He probably wanted to rid himself of the curse just to leave Jaskier all over again to be with Yennifer. Tears welled up in his eyes and he angrily blinked them back. He’d be an even bigger fool to cry in front of them both. 

A hand came up to his wrist, gently pulling him back towards the room. “Jaskier.” Geralt said. When he turned around he saw shock and confusion written over the Witcher’s face. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was just an act but no Geralt really was that dense. He jerked his hand away like Geralt had burned him. He could see the question on his face before Geralt asked.

“I’m tired.” Jaskier said, the fight leaving his body. Geralt stepped closer, moving to invade his personal space as he sagged with exhaustion. 

“You’ve slept almost all day.” Geralt’s eyes narrowed as he examined Jaskier searching for a way to catch him in his lie. 

But it was true. Jaskier was amazingly incredibly tired. He was tired of being second best after decades of companionship he was worth nothing in Geralt’s eyes compared to the fair Yennifer. He would look in the mirror and stare at his reflection. He could understand Yennifer would be young and beautiful longer than Jaskier ever would be. He wasn’t old yet but he would soon be compared to Geralt’s slow aging. Jaskier would die and Geralt would live centuries more- perhaps Yennifer would to. Why would Geralt waste his love on a human like him? Jaskier hated the fact that he would gladly spend the rest of his days by the Witcher’s side in a loveless relationship. In all his wandering Jaskier never felt alone Geralt was like a home to him and the fact that the other man didn’t feel the same way hurt in a way Jaskier would never find the words to describe. Maybe, he could sing them. 

“It’s like all the wallpaper inside my heart is slowly slowly peeling off and I’m showing all the stains and things they wrote on the wall before.” He sang, his voice flat and defeated. Geralt’s eyes widened slightly, before looking away from Jaskier. He knew where this was going. Truths were about to be told, finally, he would be able to get into Jaskier’s head and find the words he’d been avoiding telling him. But at what cost? Jaskier’s anger and resentment? He didn’t want that, not at all.

“We’ve left all the blinking lights and shouting behind us now and I’ll stare at you as you stare as you stare right back at the sky.” Jaskier continued, shaking his head as Geralt’s gaze always seemed to be everywhere but on him. He could never hold the Witcher’s attention no matter how hard he tried. 

“Jaskier, are you okay?” Yennifer asked moving to stand beside Geralt. 

“Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine. Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine.” Jaskier moved closer to Geralt, his hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “These hands are growing cold. They’re running out of things to hold.” His hands fell from the Witcher’s face and came to press against his own chest as if to hug himself. “Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine.” His hand came up in a dismissive gesture. “If you knew all that I’d done. The hearts I’ve broken. Sweet nothings are screamed not spoken.” Jaskier had done plenty of things to let Geralt know how he felt. He fed him, bathed him, brushed his hair, cleaned his wounds, stitched him up, slept beside him every night, followed him across the continent, sang his praises. Everything a man could do for the one he loved Jaskier did and more. He felt hollow inside that all Yennifer had to do was angrily fuck him and Geralt followed after her like it was love. 

Jaskier was warm and comforting and did everything he could to make Geralt love himself despite how everyone spat at the Witcher. Yennifer was beautiful and cunning but she didn’t care for Geralt like he did and never could. “If there was one place I could be right now I’d be standing there between you and her.” He pointed at Yennifer angrily. “And I’ll fight you both, fight you both for the rest of my life long days.” Jaskier felt furious and he let it out, pounding his fists against Geralt’s solid chest. He didn’t wish to hurt him and knew he couldn’t he just wanted things to be different for Geralt to wake up and realize Jaskier was here damnit and he loved him unconditionally and unequivocally. 

“But today we ripped it off, we ripped it off, we showed the world that we exist. Never really liked the pattern that much on the wallpaper so anyway.” Jaskier looked down, knowing his insecurities were showing. “Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine. Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine.” 

His hands came up to grab Geralt’s large hands in his own, just to hold. “These hands are growing cold. They’re running out of things to hold.” It was true, in a way, Jaskier didn’t have much time left to live not in comparison to Geralt and Yennifer anyway. He’s done all the reaching out and pining he could everything was up to Geralt now. “Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine.” Jaskier’s eyes came up to meet Geralt’s he was pleading for the Witcher for what he didn’t know. Love, perhaps. Or maybe a promise that Geralt would never push him away again, he wasn’t sure. “If I’m good will you come back. If I’m good will you come back. If I’m good will you come back to us.” 

As the song ended Jaskier quickly turned back on his heel and finished his dramatic exist. This like every other time before Geralt did not follow him. Jaskier felt as cold as he did when he was being drowned in the dungeon. With breakfast ruined, Jaskier made his way to the garden to hide for as long as he could. 

This ended up only being until dinner time. Geralt had come to find him with a basket of dinner. He had found Jaskier sitting by the pink roses and dandelions. He plastered a smile on his face trying to act as natural as possible. “Thanks, darling.” He had said, graciously accepting the dinner rolls and hard cheeses and salted meat. 

“Hmm.” Geralt has grunted, sitting down beside him with a decent amount of space between them. “Yennifer says the curse isn’t permanent.” He decides to say, knowing it’s what Jaskier really wants to hear. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaimed, genuinely smiling this time. “That’s great news! How do we fix it?” 

Geralt’s face changed for a moment, a tiny little frown graded his face for a quarter of a second. Jaskier’s smile fell from his face. “Oh, go on it can’t be that bad. I can handle it.” 

Geralt grunted. “It’ll go away on its on as long as we continue getting the curse out of our systems.” 

Huh. That was very fucking vague even for Geralt. “Okay, how do we do that? Give it a couple days? A week?” He still felt hopeful about the situation. 

Geralt was quiet for a moment longer. “We need to um-“ he cleared his throat awkwardly-“get the songs the truth rather out in the open.” 

“Okay.” Jaskier took a minute to process what this meant. “I don’t get it what’s the purpose of the curse at all?” He asked instead of telling Geralt how really fucking embarrassed and angry he was that the only way out was confessing his undying love for the other man. 

“I believe Villanelle wanted us to know how we felt for one another before killing us both.” 

Jaskier sighed deeply. “And there’s nothing Yennifer can do?” He couldn’t help but feel suspicious of the witch. As powerful as she was surely she could help but perhaps she didn’t want to. Perhaps, she wanted him to embarrass himself further in front of the Witcher. To say how he truly feels for him so Geralt pushes him away forever so Yennifer can swoop in and take him from the bard once more. 

“No, there’s nothing.” Geralt said, cautiously reaching a hand out to place on Jaskier’s shoulder. The bard hummed and ate his food, silently stewing and wishing he could place a curse on that horrid witch Villanelle for putting them through this. 

It isn’t until he’s finished eating and has only played with the remaining food in his plate does he say anything. “It’s late.” He announces, looking up at Geralt with big blue doe eyes. He’s tired. He wants to crawl up in bed beside his big brute and forget about the curse at least for the rest of the night. 

“Hmm.” Geralt grunts taking the basket and standing up. He walks side by side Jaskier as they make their way through the maze of a garden back to their room, leaving the basket on a random table in a corridor. 

Jaskier changes into his sleep clothes and watches and Geralt does the same, trying to keep his eyes off but stealing glances now and again. The bard’s the first to settle under the covers. He feels like he could fall asleep any minute. The stress of the past months weighing heavy on his soul and in his bones. He hears Geralt’s breathing and shuffling and thinks if he died in this moment he would be content with the life he lived. Geralt does that for him...brings him peace he’s never felt before. Geralt’s sturdy and warm body slides beside him on the bed. Jaskier’s body turns towards the warmth against his will, pressing himself close to Geralt murmuring a goodnight and pressing a kiss to Geralt’s rib cage. 

It isn’t until Jaskier’s asleep that Geralt runs his hands through his soft brown hair and brushes it out of his face. He feels horrible that they’re so distant and strained he just doesn’t know how to say it or how to fix it. It’s hard for him to admit but when they’re apart Geralt misses the bard. He isn’t sure when he began to feel this way but the bard has become a steady presence in his life. He’s not ready to let that go. Especially not now, watching him sleep peacefully turned toward the Witcher. Jaskier was always open and trusting toward Geralt even when he wasn’t sure he deserved it. Never, not even the day they met, had Jaskier feared Geralt like the other humans did. It was like Jaskier saw something good and righteous in him that no one else had ever seen before (or since) and he had taken it for granted on that mountain and every day before it. If he had to be honest with Jaskier, to get the curse to fade, than that was probably a good place to start. Well, that, and confess his affection and love for him. 


End file.
